Chapter 4 - The woman who was supposed to be dead
I arrived outside Geneva under a name the Blackwoods had taught me to forget.
Lucia Sinclair.
Ara’s rehabilitation center overlooked a frozen lake.
No paparazzi.
No Caleb.
No Victoria.
For the first week, survival was enough.
Physical therapy became war.
Standing hurt.
Sleeping hurt.
Remembering hurt more.
Caleb tried contacting me through new numbers.
I ignored them.
Then Arthur sent one email.
Mr. Blackwood wants to know when you are returning.
Not whether.
When.
I forwarded it to a divorce attorney Ara trusted.
Her name was Rebecca Sloan.
She arrived carrying two folders.
One contained divorce papers.
The other contained preliminary property research.
“Your husband believes the Manhattan residence is Blackwood property.”
“It isn’t?”
Rebecca almost smiled.
“The holding company traces back to Sinclair Meridian.”
The penthouse.
Our Hamptons property.
Even a portion of the Blackwood corporate headquarters stood on land controlled indirectly by my trust.
Caleb had spent three years telling me I was fortunate to live inside his world.
Apparently he had been living inside mine.
But I wanted answers before revenge.
Ara arranged a meeting with Marianne Reed.
The supposedly dead woman entered using a cane.
Khloe had her eyes.
“Lucia.”
“You know me?”
“I knew you before Caleb did.”
That sentence made my skin crawl.
Marianne sat.
Then she told me the Blackwoods had never wanted Caleb to marry Khloe.
I almost laughed.
“Victoria treats her like a daughter.”
“She treats Khloe like insurance.”
“Against what?”
“Me.”
Years earlier, Marianne had worked as an accountant for Helena Sinclair.
She discovered money moving through Blackwood-controlled surgical charities into private companies.
My mother prepared to expose it.
Then Victoria learned Marianne had copied the records.
“What did she do?”
Marianne’s fingers tightened around her cane.
“She threatened Khloe.”
My anger shifted.
“What?”
“Khloe was a child.”
Marianne agreed to disappear.
The Blackwoods arranged documents making it appear she had died overseas.
In exchange, Khloe remained financially protected.
“Does Khloe know you’re alive?”
Marianne looked away.
“Yes.”
That hurt unexpectedly.
Khloe had spent years using the tragedy of her dead mother to manipulate Caleb.
But perhaps she had been trapped too.
“Why stay hidden?”
“Because Victoria still has something I need.”
“What?”
Before Marianne could answer, the door opened.
Rebecca entered quickly.
“Lucia, we have a problem.”
She handed me her phone.
Security footage from Blackwood Memorial.
Caleb was inside Dr. Evans’s office.
Victoria stood beside him.
Khloe was there too.
Caleb slammed something onto the doctor’s desk.
My medical consent form.
The one signed Lucia Sinclair.
Then Victoria pointed directly at my signature and said:
“Find out who told her to use that name.”
Marianne stared at the screen.
“Oh, God.”
“What?”
May you like
She looked at me.
“Victoria knows the trust has activated.”
